AllFreeNovel
Share Us
"What the hell?" I storm back, ignoring the hot shame that floods me, and clinging on to my outrage. "You'rewayout of line. I did what needed to be done."
"And look where it got you! I'm trying to protect you, and you're fighting me every damn step of the way."
Does he really care about me that much, or is it just his male pride wounded by my refusal to fall in line? Either way, I'm done with this conversation.
I gather the papers in a businesslike manner and open my office door. "I appreciate your concern. But I won't be taking up the offer. Thank you, Agent Wright. You can see yourself out."
The muscle in Wright's jaw flexes, but finally he dips his chin. "Have it your way. But this discussion isn't over." His gaze bores into mine. "I'll keep you safe, Nat. Whether you want me to or not."
Before I can respond, he brushes past me and disappears down the corridor. I lean against the door, willing my racing heart to slow. Wright's protectiveness has shifted into something more rigid and authoritarian, and it leaves me deeply concerned.
Should I say something to our supervisor, Stephen Bell? Or to Dr. Hays? But no—if I did, they'd probably just agree with Wright that I needed protective custody.
Screw it. I can handle Sam Wright.
I return the papers to the appropriate file, and then make my way toward the elevators, passing several more colleagues who greet me with reserved nods. By the time the elevator doors finally close behind me, I'm suffocating.
Coming back here was a mistake. Hays kept reminding me that I needed the psych sessions before I could come back to work, as though I'd be desperate to get back.
But I'm not.
And Ishouldbe. The old Natalie would be furious that she was on forced leave. That's who I need to be, now—the old me. The Natalie who knew right from wrong, who understood that Alessa de Luca was a cancer in this city, just like the rest of the Mob.
The elevator groans to the lobby and I step out with a feeling of relief as my old sense of justice seems to be returning. Hanging on to that glowing ember, I hurry toward my subway station.
I just need to make it home without incident. Lock the door behind me and pour a stiff drink. Pretend, just for a little while, that I have my life back under control.
I get back to my apartment without incident, and as soon as I'm inside, I let out a deep, relieved sigh. I turn to shrug off my jacket, and that's when it happens.
A pungent cloth clamps down over my nose and mouth.
Chloroform.
I hold my breath and slam my elbow back. A muffled grunt answers but the grip around me tightens, immovable as granite. I try to kick back, but my limbs already feel sluggish and uncoordinated. Spots dance before my eyes.
No...I have to get away…have to…
My struggles grow weaker as the sickly odor fills my nose and lungs. The world melts away as my legs give out. Strong arms catch me, lowering me gently to the floor.
I try to cling to consciousness, but the black tide rises too quickly. As my vision fails, I'm enveloped by the very shadows I've been fleeing from. They seem to rise up to claim me, a whispered promise on their ruby-red lips.
You can't escape what's coming for you, Natalie Miller...
CHAPTER4
NATALIE
A bone-deep throbbing in my skull drags me back from the void. Beneath me, the floor rocks gently, the familiar hum of tires on road filling my ears. The sickly aftertaste of chloroform coats my tongue. I try to move only to find my wrists and ankles tightly bound.
And then I have to fight down the panic.
Where am I? What the hell is happening?
Blindfolded and bound in a moving vehicle, being taken God knows where. Training kicks in, honing my focus. Cautiously, I flex my wrists, but the ties don't give at all. Same with my ankles. Whoever took me is a professional.
The engine's purr and lack of traffic noise suggest a powerful car on an empty road. The vehicle takes a smooth curve, the centrifugal force pressing me against firm panels—a van or an SUV.
I force myself to breathe slowly against the fear constricting my chest. Blind, immobilized, I'm terrifyingly helpless. And I have no idea who's taken me, the list of possibilities longer than it should be. The Mancini Family? Juno Bianchi? Johnny the Gentleman? Sam Wright, for God's sake?
